


Trees Cannot Grow in a Moonless Sky

by ivythecreator



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: End of the World, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Magic, Ragnarok, Worldbuilding, post httyd 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivythecreator/pseuds/ivythecreator
Summary: The sun hangs above the sky eternally. It has been years since the sun has last moved.In the wake of the sun's sudden action, the world has fallen into chaos. A new threat emerges from the mainland, forcing countless lives to flee to the safety of Hiccup's new home. Determined to save the world from this evil, Hiccup sets out on a quest to set the sun in motion once again, but his journey will be wrought with sacrifice.The saga begins.
Relationships: Fishlegs Ingerman/Ruffnut Thorston, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This story will take some parts from the movies and others from various fanfics within the HTTYD fandom. Also, I am looking for some beta-readers, so please feel free to leave me a message if you are interested :) Enjoy

She stood her ground for three millennia, feasting on the harvest of her disciples. With every raid she grew stronger or, at least, strong enough to maintain the gates which lay below her. The last of her kind.

Despite all of the precautions she took, all the treasures her disciples conjured for her, she was defeated with a single blow into her mouth — by a former disciple of her own, no less. The irony of it all. Dragons and humans, working in unison to take her down. After all she had done for this world, she was rewarded with the greatest — yet damning — present any being can ever obtain: Death.

For the first time in three millennia, her halls were silent. There will be no feasts. The skies around her palace will forever be silent. Her death marked the end of an era. She was, after all, the last of her kind. Deep within the empty tunnels of her palace, shrouded eternally by darkness, was a door. Its structure was made by the finest of materials in Midgard. Blocks of oily black stone dot the area around the door, its surface covered with scriptures of an ancient language long lost to the annals of time. Its golden days were long gone; no being in Midgard could ever dream to decipher its intricacies — all except her.

In the dark chasms of her palace, a crack appeared on the door.

On that day, when the vikings of Berk returned home to celebrate their great victory, the sun set two hours later than usual.


	2. Hiccup

New Berk. An island six days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south from Freezing to Death. Coincidentally, like the island of its namesake, it is also located on the meridian of misery.

Life on the island was tough. Six years has passed since its denizens last seen a dragon and since then the Berkians had to cope with their new, dragonless lives. Back to the status quo, Gobber once said. Its geological formations was odd, even for an island in the Barbaric archipelago. Travellers from all over the archipelago claimed that their lives were blessed by the Gods themselves, that — as a reward for their achievements — they were rewarded with the highest point in Midgard. Some even claim that they can hear the warriors of Valhalla beating, drinking, and celebrating from their beds. No matter the claims, New Berk was certainly peculiar. In the centre of the island lay an ancient statue made entirely out of wood. Upon closer examination, Fishlegs concluded that the statue had to be around for ten thousand years. Clearly it was imbued by some sort of magic — perhaps it was even blessed by Odinson himself. After all, every Berkian knew that wood deteriorates after three hundred years. No one knows who exactly the statue was or to whom it was dedicated to, but one feature that stood out the most was its head: It was dragon-like, but in a way that resembled more like a raptor than any known dragon. It had three eyes on each side of its face — eyes so small that only those with the most acute sense of sight can see it. There was only one dragon that shared the same characteristics, but none dare to utter its name.

The Demon, they called her.

On one of the many cliffsides of New Berk, a man stood watching the seaport below him, bustling with activity. His hair was darker than the oldest oak trees, yet one can also note the shades of red in his hair. He was a tall man, even for Berkian standards, standing over six foot and a half. As he watched the port absent-mindedly with his emerald green eyes, his thick beard covered the smile that was plastered on his face. In the six years after his best friend left for the Hidden World, the young chieftain of Berk had grown up to be a dominating presence in his village. No longer was he 'Hiccup the Useless'; he was Hiccup the Hero, though he always thought that name was a bit too much. It had been a busy summer. Even after the sun stopped moving three years ago, life continued normally — well, as normally as one could imagine if the sun suddenly stopped in its tracks. He watched as another fleet of ships enter the ports of his expanding village. He frowned at the sight of it, not because that he didn't welcome those on board — he loved introducing strangers to his village's customs, traditions, and values — but because it had been the fourth time that a fleet that size had entered his port. All on the same day.

It was a common occurrence now. Something had certainly happened in the mainland, he knew that for sure. Tales of a dark and mysterious force circulated around New Berk the first time these refugees fled to his village two years ago. A war was raging — a conflict so devastating that entire mountain ranges were rumoured to have split in half. He feared the day when these 'Blind ones' reach Berk, but he knew that such a prospect would be impossible. His dark thoughts were interrupted when a familiar sight emerged from the corner of his eyes — a large, muscular man whose hair was as bright as the evening star. Fishlegs was a giant of a man, easily dwarfing Hiccup, standing at around seven feet tall. His beard had grown considerably, grazing his chest ever so slightly whenever the man's chest rose up to breathe.

Fishlegs stopped in his tracks and bowed slightly. "Hiccup, we got more folk from the mainland — around five hundred, more or less," the chieftain frowned slightly, nodding. "I heard some of the stories from the passengers — the situation in the mainland is not pretty,"

"I can tell. How much food do we have left in the storehouses?"

"Not enough, that's for sure," Hiccup's frown deepened. "I don't think we'd be able to last another year if we keep getting more villagers," his voice was soft, as if he was scared, though Hiccup could hardly blame him. He placed his hands on his shoulders and smiled sympathetically.

"We're going to make it, Fishlegs,"

Fishlegs shifted his shoulders, acknowledging Hiccup's reassurances half-heartedly. "I doubt it. Have you heard from Valka recently? Winter's coming early this year — again,"

Hiccup chuckled. It was strange. A few years ago, his mother had isolated herself from the rest of Berkian society following the dragon's departure. How crushed she must have felt, to have her family torn from her again. She spent her time dwelling in the forest, conjuring light magic and procuring miracles handed to her by the Gods themselves. When Gothi died, she rose to take her place. Now, she was the village's druid, ending the blight that is pain with her touch. "When hasn't winter come early, my friend??"

"When the sun was still moving. God knows how long ago that was,"

"Yet we move on. Life goes on. Only the sun has stopped. These are difficult times, so it comes to us to help those who are in need,"

"But what if those people are your own? We can't continue letting more people in. If we do, it's only a matter of time before the storehouses empty," Fishlegs rebutted.

"What choice do we have? They have no where else to go. Every island they came across turned them down. Eventually, their supplies will also dwindle — and they won't be able to do anything to stop it. I am not going to sign the death warrant for their lives,"

"The village is at a breaking point, Hiccup. I know human lives are valuable, but we can't ignore the fact that there are simply too many mouths to feed now,"

"Enough," Hiccup rose his hand, startling his friend, before a wave of silence struck against them. "We will talk more about this with the others — tonight, at the Great Hall. For now, make sure that we have enough makeshift beds for the refugees,"

Fishlegs stood silently before he nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, chief,"

Hiccup let out a loud sigh before sitting down on a nearby rock. He ran his hand across his hair, remembering how easy life was when he was a child. Before his best friend left for his new life. Before he took up the mantle of chief. Before when the sun still moved.

*******

A gust of wind blew against Hiccup's form as he marched downwards towards his home. The village was bustling with activity. Traders from all corners of the archipelago came to Berk to make trade, yelling at the top of their lungs so as to outcompete their rivals. Silk from the Jade Empire are sold to rich clansmen, eager to show off their wealth to their neighbouring clansmen; iron tools hailing from the Dwarven realm of Nidavellir found themselves stored in Berkian houses; and alcohol of all kinds are embraced with open arms. Hiccup could hardly believe that his small town located on the edge of the world could become a powerhouse of trade. Great houses made out of the finest logs of oak could be seen as far as the eye could see, and mighty windmills drew water from the island's many rivers, hydrating their large terrace farms. In all honesty, it was more of a town — nay, a city — than a village.

Yet, despite its idyllic description, Hiccup saw hints of a dark future that lay directly in his tribe's path. In the corner of his mighty village was a small slum, built mostly from mud and wood. Columns of small, black smoke rose from their chimneys and spiral into the skies while water ran freely in the streets, turning the dirt road into mud. Over the horizon, he watched as the new arrivals were herded into a large, makeshift tent located at the edge of the slums. However, as he watched closer, he noticed that a small band of men were headed towards the great hall, their stride filled with confidence and — most notably — determination. "Astrid should be able to deal with them," he muttered under his breath. He changed his direction and headed directly into the forest, his hands fixed on the pommel of his sword.

Valka's den was not too far away from the village, though that did not meant that it was easy to go to her place. Her house was built on one of the highest peaks on the island, allowing her to see the full extent of the town below. The only thing that connected her home to civilisation was a narrow pathway — and an even narrower staircase — that hugged the side of the mountain. When he first started visiting her home, he struggled. Despite the years of training on his stamina (a dragonrider should always have a tremendous amount of stamina at all times), he struggled to climb up the mountain. But years of constant back and forth from his home to his mother's den had steeled him well — enough for the young chieftain of New Berk to reach his mother's doorsteps within an hour.

Hiccup march came to a halt once he arrived on her porch. There was a small statue of Stoic that stood guard beside the door, ever vigilant in its self-proclaimed quest of livening the garden. He smiled at the sight, taking note of a number of scratches on the statue that only a hook hand can make. He knocked on the door and waited. Moments later, her mother appeared to open the door. Her eyes immediately brightened at the sight of her son. "Hiccup! I didn't know you were coming,"

"I like to make my visits unannounced," he grabbed her by the hand and gave her a tender hug. "It's been a while,"

Her mother chuckled. Though she had aged quite a bit, she still retained those youthful, emerald-eyes that Hiccup himself inherited. She gestured her hands at the living room. Hiccup closed the door behind him and walked towards the fire-place, limping ever-so-slightly. Valka immediately went to work behind the counter, procuring a number of herbs from the counter and throwing them into two, empty mugs. "So," she started, "what brings you here to my humble den?"

Hiccup shrugged casually. "I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing. It's been a while, after all,"

"It most certainly has been," an aura of energy surrounded the kettle as she lifted the object on top of the mugs, tilting it slightly so that the hot water within it can flow freely into the mugs. "And I am doing fine. Not much to do when you live at the edge of the world," she passed one of the mugs to Hiccup, flying over the counter, before landing neatly into his left hand. "How are things in the village, by the way? Is that boy Snotlout still a thorn on your side,"

"He's not here anymore," Hiccup said softly, devoid of any emotion. "I mean, he's alive, yeah, but he's not with us anymore. He went off, you see — with a bunch of mainlanders, no less. Said that the rural lifestyle wasn't quite his," he added quickly. He sipped on his drink. It burned Hiccup's lips as it touched its surface, but as he drank its content, his stomach was immediately put into a state of trance. Albian mint tea, he assumed.

Valka walked over to one of the empty chairs, giving Hiccup a motherly smile. "Just like his father — well, almost. He certainly picked up his father's sense of adventure, that's for sure,"

Hiccup rubbed his temples in silent frustration. "Is it that hard for him to stay put? I know Snotlout, but I never thought he would be willing to throw away his family name that easily..."

The elder downed her drink, nodding. "Not everyone is fit for your kind of lifestyle," she commented.

"What do you mean _my_ lifestyle?" Hiccup retorted.

"Before you ended the war, life was... it was consistent, at the very least. Berk might have been on fire ninety percent of the time, but it was consistent. You can always expect a dragon to ruin your season's harvest. When you finally made peace with the dragons, you opened up a world of . I suppose that's what happened to Snotlout," she grazed her son's cheeks with her fingertips. "People are stubborn, especially those of the Berkian type. If he thinks that his life is better fit for the life of an adventurer then so be it. He is more than capable of taking care of himself,"

"Snotlout won't be able to survive a single winter if he still acted the way he did when he left the island," Hiccup said reluctantly.

"I wouldn't be able to survive twenty years on my own if I didn't learn how to tame a dragon," she retorted. Hiccup cursed under his breath, before flashing her a defeated smile. 

The two stared at the fire before them, watching the flames crackling occasionally. A warm, orange hue hugged the two Berkians in its embrace. Hiccup sipped from his mug before his gaze was fixed on the window. A massive cloud formation was forming north of the island. He stroked his beard silently, remembering his conversation with Fishlegs earlier that day. "Storm's coming," Hiccup stated. Valka nodded and looked down at her feet. Hiccup didn't even need to ask what that meant — he _knew_ what she was implying. "How bad?" he asked slowly.

"Worst one yet," she answered softly.

"Can you be so sure?"

"The Sight has not failed me since the day Mother Gothi..." she rubbed her hands nervously. She slowly rose from her chair and walked over to the window, staring aimlessly at the sunlit sky. "But I cannot be so sure anymore these days..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Dark days are ahead of us, son. I know that for certain. The Sight... For the first time from what I can recall, the Sight is wavering,"

"How is that even possible?"

She shrugged. "I am not sure. I gave my report to Fishlegs yesterday, but for some odd reason, after he left my head began to ache. So I decided to lay down. When I woke up, it was gone. The visions, the sounds... All gone,"

"An omen?"

"Pray that it's a good one. But you can never know with the Gods these days," she chuckled. 

"They've certainly been kind to us for the past few years," he quipped.

"They have indeed," she sighed and set aside her mug on the counter. "Gods. They work in such mysterious ways. One moment they can tear down entire villages and the next thing you know, they've blessed you with a newborn," she laughed."Those babes of yours keeping you up at night?"

Hiccup ran his hand across his face in frustration, groaning. "You know," he chuckled, "just kids doing kids stuff. Zephyr's really starting to pick things up — oh, you should've been there to hear her first words!" he said enthusiastically, resulting in a warm laugh from his mother. "I believe it was... Gods, I forgot what it was again—"

"Oh shit?" she replied, an ominous smile plastered on her mouth. She laughed. "I wonder where she might've gotten that from,"

"First of all, you knew? Second, I don't swear," he stated

"You do it subconsciously; I've seen it before," she rebutted

Hiccup sighed. "You're going to use some of that magic stuff to prove me I'm wrong if I continued denying aren't you?"

"It's always good to double check,"

"I do it often,"

"Not often enough it seems. Try to block out swearing from your vocabulary every time you're near your babes. It helped your father once and I'm certain it will help you too," the room was silent for a moment. The shadow of his father's death still loomed before them. He died hours after reuniting with the love of his life. Hiccup hugged his mother tightly. "I miss him,"

Hiccup nodded sadly. "We all do," he rubbed his arm. His relationship with his father might not have been the best, even after he defeated the Demon. In fact, he felt deeply hurt when his father professed his opinion that his son was the worst viking he had ever known. He didn't notice the stiffness that traveled throughout Hiccup's body after those words left Stoick's mouth. There was always a wall between them, one that they never seemed to tear down, even during his last days when the two about Hiccup's succession. Nevertheless, despite their shortcomings, the young chieftain cared deeply for his father. One night, Stoick came home in a sour mood, lashing out at over the tiniest things. Hiccup approached him, only to receive a stream of harsh comments -- comments that he chose to ignore, for he saw the weight that his father was carrying. His father sat in silence as he watched his son, the worst viking he had ever known, cook a hearty meal of salmon, bread, and peas, accompanied alongside a warm mug of eggnog. It was winter, after all. He draped the impossibly large man with a wool blanket he had sewed himself and left for his room.

As he climbed the flight of stairs, he noticed that his father was smiling.

Those were among the few good memories Hiccup had with his father, and he cherished it deep within his heart. Yet, there was a great pain that tug with his heart every time he thought of his father. Hiccup forgot how many times he wished for his father to be alive, watching his little Hiccup grow up to the son he always dreamed of. He would never see his grandsons, so small yet so full of life. He would never grow up with his beloved Valka. Hiccup frowned at the thought, but in those dark thoughts, he remembered what his surrogate father Gobber said to him after the week-long celebration they held in Stoick's name a month after after his death.

No one's ever gone. And he believed that with all of his heart.

Their peace was suddenly interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream. Hiccup rushed out of the house to see a column of smoke rising from one of the storehouses adjacent to the Great Hall. He cursed a hundred different words before he faced his mother with a stern look. "Will you come with?"

She nodded.

The pair walked towards the staircase before the chieftain stopped. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I suppose you know another way to get down more quickly?"

For a split second, Valka's smile grew wide with playful glee. _Whatever she was thinking, it could only end badly,_ Hiccup thought. She lifted her hand into the arm. In a blinding flash, a white, wooden staff was conjured from out of thin air. At the top of the staff was a blue orb encased by the roots of the staff, branching off in various directions. The elder grabbed Hiccup's hand firmly, her smile wider than ever. She shouted from the top of her lungs, "Arperio portal!" For a moment, the blue orb grew brighter than the sun itself. Her hands pulsated with energy, engulfing the pair in a striking blue aura. 

And then they were gone.

*******

Hiccup and Valka fell onto the ground as their bodies cope with the sudden lose of energy. The elder laughed to herself as she watched her son struggle to stand on his feet. "Was that a portal!?"

"It most certainly was," she restrained herself from laughing at her son's baffled expression. She rose from the ground, staff clutched tightly with both of her hands, and sniffed the air. She recoiled slightly, most likely due to the smell, but shook her head as her eyes caught the sight of the column of smoke they had spotted earlier. "Come, Hiccup. We've but a few moments left," she walked closer towards the source of the smoke.

He groaned, irritated. "Note to self: I hate portals," he rose from the ground and placed his left hand firmly on the sword strapped onto his belt.

The area was a mess. Villagers ran across the streets, their hearts gripped with fear. Some of the Berkians had already formed a chain, hurling water taken from a nearby pond at the burning storehouse. Hiccup heard a mutter from his mother, surprised to see how well they remembered their fire-fighting procedures. However, what was most surprising was the body of a deceased man, no older than sixteen years judging by the size of his beard — or, lack thereof. A pool of blood formed around the body, pouring primarily from a single, nasty wound located on his stomach. The blade cut deep into the boy's body. Valka knelt to inspect the body. She waved her hand over the boy's chest. Silence amidst the chaos. She turned to face Hiccup and shook her head.

He's too far gone. Not even an Elder's healing touch can save him from the cold claws of death.

A tall, bearded man emerged from the shadows, panting heavily. His body was covered in scars, the largest of which spanned from his right eyebrow to the tip of his mouth. Tuffnut was one of the strongest viking on the island, capable of lifting an entire Berkian log by himself — or so he claims. "They..." he breathed out, and Hiccup stepped closer to hear him better. "They're in the Great Hall!" he yelled. His body collapsed onto the ground, revealing to Hiccup the arrow that was lodged behind his friend's kneecap. 

Hiccup drew out his sword from its hilt. "Mum, get Tuff to a quiet area. The rest of you," he gestured to a group of men and women whose attention had been caught by Hiccup's dominating presence. "Follow me!" the small group of Berkians grabbed some of the tools nearby, most of which were pitchforks, with the occasional scythe. They rushed towards the Great Hall, passing by a myriad of houses whose roofs had caught fire. The heat brushed against their skins, and the slower they ran, the more intense the heat got. The young chieftain ran up the flight of stairs before his march was interrupted by a pair of thugs. They were drapped in tattered dresses, wielding blunted swords that were most likely stolen from one of the burning houses.

One of them charged straight at Hiccup, raising his sword into the air. Hiccup dodged his attack, causing the thug to lose his footing. He slipped down a stair or two before he was caught by the mob. The remaining bandit threw down her sword and begged for forgiveness. He will deal with her later. He pointed his sword at the thug's neck. "Where's your boss?" she pointed weakly at the Great Hall, whose doors were wide open for everyone to see. He struck the side of her head with the pommel of his sword, knocking her unconscious. He reached the top of the staircase, only to be greeted by another small group of thugs. They drew their swords, banging their shields in anticipation. Yet, as Hiccup made ready for battle, the mob that was following him earlier had finally caught up and defeated the guards defending the entrance with relative ease.

Hiccup stepped into the building, where he could see that a small engage was happening at the centre of the room. Eret, son of Eret, punched one of the thugs in the face, drawing out a spit of blood from his opponent's nose. He grabbed him by the chest, lifting him high in the air, before hurling the body onto another group of thugs. Suddenly, as he drew his breath, he felt the cold sting of a blade slashed his arm. He attempted to face his new enemy, but his opponent knocked him down onto the ground before he had the chance. 

Hiccup ran as fast as he could towards the man. His charge startled the thug, sending him flying across the floor. The thug spat out some blood from his mouth. He procured a hidden dagger from his vest whilst his hand clutched his chest tightly. He charged at Hiccup, but his form was sloppy, allowing Hiccup to swing his sword at the man's chest. As the body dropped onto the ground, Hiccup extended his arm to Eret, encouraging him to stand up. His body was battered like hell, but his muscles were large enough to take most of the damage the thugs gave to him.

He wiped his mouth, spitting out a mixture of saliva and blood at the fire beside them. "I owe you one," he breathed.

Hiccup shook his head. "I should be owing you — but we'll talk later," he turned to face the last group of thugs in the room. They stood tall and still, crouching slightly so as to better accommodate the armour they wore. In front of them was a short man whose most noticeable feature was his pale-blue eyes. His skin was as dark as copper and his beard also flowed freely from his face. Behind the group of thugs was his wife, Astrid, her hands clutched tightly around her battle-axe; Fishlegs, his arms placed directly in front of Astrid so as to restrain her from outright attacking the thugs in front of them; and his kids, whose hearts were gripped with fear.

"Hail Chief Hiccup. You've finally arrived," the man shouted. Despite his short stature, his voice boomed throughout the hall. "Surrender all of your provisions to us and we will spare this town and your family,"

"Who are you?" shouted the chieftain.

"My name does not concern you. Comply to our demands or suffer the consequences!" he drew his sword from his hilt and pointed his blade at Astrid. For a moment, time seemed to stop for everyone. "You have three seconds!"

Three. His heartbeat pounded faster than a hammer hitting an anvil. He analysed the group before him, noting the small gap of unexposed flesh located near their armpits and the hips. 

Two. Hiccup's eyes met with Eret's, whose stern look can defeat even the Gods themselves. He tapped his feet twice on the ground — a signal whose details are known only to the blonde-haired woman who stood behind the group.

One. 

Hiccup whistled loudly, startling the group of thugs. They raised their shields in the air in anticipation, their faces locked with fear as they waited for an enemy that never came — except from behind.

Astrid lodged her axe into one of the thug's neck, spilling blood all over the place. Hiccup and Eret charged at the remaining duo, entering the fight with renewed vigour. The leader of the thugs rose his blade into the air, clashing his steel against Hiccup's blade. The thug moved forward with unrelenting force, forcing Hiccup to parry his strong swings. He slammed his head against Hiccup's own, causing the chieftain to stagger a few steps behind. He regained his ground quickly, however, and moved on the offensive. Unlike the thug, Hiccup danced around the bandit with speed and precision, parrying the thug's swings quickly, moving in to thrust only when his guard was down. He struck the leader with the pommel of his sword, though that did little to stop him from charging towards Hiccup. He grabbed him by the body and threw themselves onto a nearby table, sending small splinters of wood flying all over the vicinity.

As Hiccup brawled with the bandit leader, Eret and Astrid fought side by side against a foe that was twice their size. He ward off most of their counter-assaults, sending a number of devastating swings at them. Eret rushed towards the giant's knees, but the thug intercepted him before he had the chance to swing his sword, kicking him in the groin. Astrid stood in shock as she watched one of the strongest man on the island get knocked out of the fight in a second. She stalked the thug's every movement, pacing around him as she waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. Yet, before she could take her shot, the thug threw small chunks of molten coal at her, forcing her to cover herself. He charged at her, and the impact was so strong that it flew the shieldmaiden across the room.

The giant found its attention interrupted when a small boy — no more than three-years-old — threw a rock at his helmet. He turned to face the boy, looking at him with eyes that screamed "murderer". He walked towards the child, whose body was hugging the wall behind him, until a bloodcurdling yell stopped him in his tracks. Astrid charged at him with a ferocity only a shieldmaiden can procure and swung her axe at the man's knee. He yelled in pain as her axe dug deep into his flesh. Before he could even raise his fist in retaliation, Astrid swung his axe again at the same position, cutting through flesh and bone. His massive form fell crashed against the table, his groans barely audible as Astrid swung the killing blow directly at his chest, piercing through layers upon layers of metal and into his flesh. Nuffink and Zephyr watched in astonishment as they watched their mother lift her axe from the giant's chest. "You stay here; I'll go fetch your father!" the kids nodded silently as their mother ran across the hall to help their father.

Meanwhile, Fishlegs watched the fight as close as he could get from his position. He stood tall beside Hiccup's throne, as he was meant to do, observing the fighting techniques employed by the thug leader.

Hiccup blocked another wave of punches from the thug leader. He was panting sporadically, allowing Hiccup to exploit his weakness. Hiccup threw a punch at the man's throat, causing him to choke for a second before he regained his position. The two men charged at one another and soon found themselves locked in combat. Punch after punch, kick after kick, Hiccup stood, with each blow making him taller than the last. He was exhausted, but so too was the man in front of him — the man that was most likely the reason why a quarter of his town was on fire; the man that was responsible for the death of an innocent, young man; the man who threatened to kill his family in front of his own eyes. He did not know his name, but he hated that man as much as he did with Draco when he ordered his best friend to shoot at his father. He kicked him in the groin area before jumping into the air, his body working in unison with his mind, and kicked him once more at his face. The thug staggered for a bit until he didn't — that was when Astrid lunged her axe into his back, sending him across the room, leaving behind a faint trail of blood.

Astrid smiled smugly at her husband. "Your welcome," she said proudly.

Hiccup dusted off the crumbs of stone and wood that was on his coat. "I had the situation under control," he assured her, though she knew that he did not actually had the situation in his control.

She shot him a glare that drilled deep into his head. He chuckled nervously. Coughing, he approached the thug's fallen form. He scrutinised every little detail, from the length of his beard, the shade of his eyes, and the roughness of his hands. He sighed sadly. Slowly, he slid his hands into the man's vest and produced an insignia in the shape of a direwolf. The crowd gasped as Hiccup raised the object into the air before planting in gently on the man's chest. "Devil Dogs..." he hissed. Hiccup turned to face Fishlegs, whose eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at the object. "Did you knew?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't. In fact, I don't recall them entering the port at all," he said honestly.

"Then how did they get into the village in the first place..."

Astrid crossed her arms. "Never mind that — _why_ did they come for us?"

"I was hoping you guys knew the answer,"

She shrugged as she placed her axe onto the table. "I'm just as clueless as you are. Fishlegs was here when they came barging in, I think," Hiccup turned to face his friend. The Ingerman nodded in acknowledgement.

"So?"

He gestured his arm at the thug leader. "Something's happening on their island — or, rather, _was_ happening. It must have been bad enough for them to consider raiding our storehouses," he hypothesised.

"And how did you come up with that idea?" Hiccup raised his eyebrows.

"Their island is filled with natural resources. Even with all of the dragon raids they faced in the past, they never had to ration their food, unlike us. I think that alone speaks for argument," he concluded.

"Is that it?" Eret interjected, holding his stomach tightly to suppress the pain.

He moved his arms in confusion. "That's all I can think of at the moment. We don't have enough information about what's going on there or why they attacked us in the first place." 

Hiccup stroked his beard. He put his blade into his hilt and glanced at the sky behind him — grey, with wide strokes of orange produced by the flames below them. He glanced over the crowd around him, waiting eagerly for his next words. "We will convene in this hall two days from now. I want those fires out before the storm hits," the crowd slowly dispersed as they went off to comply with their chieftain's command. Astrid walked up beside him, clutching his his hand into hers. She laid her head against his shoulder, her breath calm and steady — a clear contrast to the loud shieldmaiden that had taken out the giant earlier. 

"It'll be okay," she whispered.

Hiccup nodded. "It will be okay — until the next raid, at least. But let's not think too much about it, okay?"

"We're still going to have to talk about it later, though," she replied.

"I know, but it's been a long day. You're not hurt are you?"

Astrid scoffed at her husband's concern, shaking in her head in disappointment. "Can't believe you have so little faith in your wife,"

"Totally."

She nudged his shoulder, laughing. "I was more worried about you; you barely managed to fight off that one guy."

Hiccup pouted. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much."

"Sure you are."

He tenderly wrapped his arms around Astrid's neck, looking at her with loving eyes. "Plus, I couldn't have done it without you, milady" Astrid's face flushed red before she jabbed her husband in the stomach. Hiccup staggered a few steps back, clutching his stomach.

"You know we agreed on," she reached out for Hiccup's arms, pulling him closer to her. She planted a firm kiss on his lips, one that lasted for a few seconds before Hiccup parted to breathe.

"I seemed to have forgotten," he replied.

"Then you know what that means..." she bit her lip, smiling at Hiccup as if she had snatched something that was special to him.

Hiccup put his index finger on her lips, clutching her in a tight embrace. He looked at one of the nearby tables, noticing the two pairs of legs hiding beneath the object. "Don't get too frisky, babe. There're kids here,"

"Yeah babe. There are kids here," she repeated playfully. "Anyway. I'm going down to the port to see if any of more of those bastards might be sneaking into the village. I'll meet you before the storm hits," the blonde shieldmaiden parted from Hiccup's embrace slowly and walked towards the silver axe that was on one of the tables. She turned to face Eret, who had quickly recovered from his injuries no thanks to Valka, who arrived unannounced while the couple were busy with themselves. The two left the Great Hall with a few other men, and Hiccup swore he could hear his wife barking orders at her newly-formed warrior band.

Valka approached Hiccup slowly, placing her hand on his shoulders. It was incredibly stiff, most likely due to the amount of physical pressure he had endured during the fight. He glanced at his mother, frowning wistfully. Without uttering a single word, she wrapped her arms around her son, pulling him into her loving embrace. She tore away from their hug, staring deeply into her son's eyes. "It is what it is," she commented solemnly. In the corner of her eyes, she saw the dying flames that continued to rage in the town below them.

He sighed. "But I don't know if I have the strength to carry on," as the two hugged, a small, red-headed girl carrying a baby emerged from below the table. She walked up towards her father, at her grandmother, and joined in on the hug. Hiccup stared at the ground; he couldn't face her mother in the eyes after saying what he just said.

Again, Valka parted away from their hug, lifting his chin with her white wooden staff. She shook her head and smacked Hiccup softly on the cheeks. "You have to, son. Your tribe depends on it," she paused. She rubbed the spot where she smacked Hiccup with her staff and gave the spot a light peck. "Your people need you," she walked towards the banner that hung at the end of the centre of the room. It was a red banner, sewed with some of the most exotic materials Hiccup could import to his humble tribe. The top portion of the banner was covered in embroidery, depicting flowers, deers, and -- most noticeably -- dragons; and it is at the top of the banner where she read outloud the words that were sewed onto the banner.

"Here contains the Berkian edda. Let the Gods be our witness for our mighty deeds," she turned to face Hiccup. Nuffink climbed onto his father's shoulders, grasping his red locks as if it was a dragon's reins. Zephyr held her father's hand tightly. Valka reached out for the cloth, caressing the fabric with her aging hands. She inspected the banner once again, noting the effort it took to make a fabric of such impeccable quality. Her hands stopped on top of a figure of a man whose body was as vast as his verses. Her eyes glistened as she caressed the figure who she once called husband and suppressed the urge to cry in front of her son and his grandchildren. Yet as she looked back at Hiccup, a bead of water fell from her cheeks. She looked at him proudly, yet Hiccup's eyes met with hers, he felt as if his shoulders had been given another burden to carry.

No, not burden. Duty. That is what it is -- his duty.

"The saga must continue. Don't let this part be the end of our Edda, my son," her message was as cryptic as the look she gave him. For a moment, Hiccup did not see his mum, but an Elder with powers given by the Allfather himself. Her hands left the touch of the banner. She walked towards Hiccup, patting his shoulder three times, before walking out of the Great Hall. The light from the fires around the Great Hall threw her shadow clear across the hall, and for a moment, Valka Haddock stood taller than the Gods themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy wow that took a while but im done.
> 
> It's been a thrill writing this chapter. Even though the story just started, my head is already swirling with countless ideas on how to approach this story. I will try to update as regularly as possible, but I cannot be too sure that I will update according to a strict schedule. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite its many flaws :))
> 
> And with that, the Banner Saga begins.


	3. Zephyr

_[...] the continent houses some of the most diverse civilisations in Midgard. It is uncertain how humans came to this world -- a certain fact which has become an important point of contention in most religions -- but scholars generally believe that humanity first made landfall on the continent after they set sail from the northern isles of the Barbaric Archipelago. In the short time they have been on the continent, they have radically altered the political and demographic landscape of the continent. The greatest of the human kingdoms, Varagian Empire, which spans from the northernmost tip of the empire whose coasts are guarded by the mighty fortress of Grofeheim to the steppes of the Blood Plains._

_\- The Gods' Chosen: Humanity_

***

The wind howled on as the storm pounded against the village. Thick layers of snow blanket the landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see. Zephyr huddled closer to her father's side, holding his arm tightly. She watched the snow pouring downwards from the window. She could hardly see anything through the storm, but amidst the snow and the darkness that shrouded the village, she noticed the faint light of fire warming the interior of some of the nearby homes. As her father ran through his hands through her auburn-red hair, she wondered what life was like before the sun stopped moving. Her mother told her stories of how, against the inky-black backdrop of the sky, one could see small specks of light emanating from the village and from the other islands near Old Berk. In some cases, like Snoggletog, the village essentially glowed brighter than the sun itself as the clans of Berk celebrate the passing of another year. 

She frowned slightly at the thought. She'd always wanted to see what the moon was like, to see if it was as beautiful as her parents had told her. Perhaps, if the dragons were still around, she could chase the last drops of moonlight before the sun rises above the horizon. Zephyr turned to face her father. His features -- especially the freckles that dot his face -- were accentuated by the warm embrace of the fireplace. He was whispering something to mum. She tried her best to catch on what they were saying, but she could hardly hear them as the winds outside essentially drowned their voices. Astrid's face flushed red (she wondered how people can make such a colour with their faces) before bursting in laughter. For a moment, she cast her curiosity aside. If there was one thing she loved it was to hear her mother's laugh fill the halls of the home. 'She is certainly one of a kind,' her uncle, Gobber, once described to her at the eve of last year's Snoggletog. 

Suddenly, a gust of wind brushed against her sides and she moved deeper in search of her father's warmth. Hiccup chuckled and held her tighter. "Feeling a bit chilly there, sweetie?," he teasingly asked. She nodded weakly. The chieftain gave her a soft peck on the foreheads and lifted her chin up with his index finger. He smiled warmly, his eyes wandering towards the fireplace. "Do you want to hear a story?" Zephyr's face beamed brightly. Astrid sat beside Hiccup, resting her head against his shoulder (which was smaller than mum's, Zephyr once noted). "Long ago," he paused as he threw in another log of firewood into the fire. "back before you were born, there used to be dragons," he continued. "Oh, there were great, grim dragons that nested on clifftops like gigantic, scary birds. Tiny dragons that hunted down rats in organised packs," he flew his arms into the arm. "Preposterously large dragons whose wings were capable of leveling entire forests. In fact, some of these dragons were so powerful that they could control more than just fire..."

"More than fire? But dragons can only breathe fire, right?" she perked up.

Hiccup shook his head. "There are some dragons who could create ice. Bizarre? Very much so, but the spikes they would leave behind -- they were the stuff of legend. Chillsnappers, Bewilderbeasts. These dragons are the cream of the top, the best of the best -- second to the Night Fury, of course," Astrid raised her eyebrows. Hiccup chuckled nervously. "Though I might be biased on that front," he rubbed the nape of his neck and glanced over to Astrid, who had a pleased smirk on her face.

"And what happened to them?"

He paused, stroking his beard. He nodded, smiling sadly. "They went off to a better place. Far from our reach," Zephyr's enthusiasm dropped slightly at the reality. She'd heard the story more than once, but it always hurt to remember that she was born after the dragons left behind their riders for greener pastures. "But," he continued. "they've not entirely separated their lives from ours. Not by a longshot," he pointed towards the storm, which had died down considerably. "Everytime the winter winds howl, or when the ground quakes, it's the dragons, letting us know that they're still out there, waiting for all of us to figure out how to get along."

"But we have, haven't we?" Hiccup shook his head sorrowfully.

"People are stupid. Just like your father sometimes," Astrid interjected. Hiccup feigned a pained expression, clutching his chest.

"Words can hurt, babe. But you are right about one thing," he grabbed her hand gently, urging her to lean forward. He planted a light kiss on her lips, smiling cheekily at her. "I can be stupid sometimes."

The shieldmaiden rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes. Yes you can be," the two adults continued their playful banter, completely oblivious to the child that was beside them. Zephyr didn't mind though. She loved it when her parents banter back and forth; it was entertaining, watching each side berate each other with playful insults and heartwarming compliments (though there were times where she wished she wasn't beside them). Hiccup moved himself to make room for Astrid to sit beside them. Instead, she sat down on the floor, reaching out her arm towards Zephyr and Hiccup so that they may join her on the floor.

However, amidst the newfound comfort they all found themselves in, Zephyr was surprised to find how unsettled she was by the story. She frowned at the thought. She was more than aware of her family's relationship with dragons; she cannot begin to imagine how many times she had dreamed about dragons -- how majestic they would be if she would meet them in person. But she will never meet them. They left, disappeared to the edges of Midgard, and that reality sunk deeper into her psyche the more she thought about it. Either way, why should anyone worry about the past? People should only focus on the future. At least, that's what her grandmama Valka once taught her, though she cannot exactly recount the details of her lesson.

"... Like how you wandered off to Gods knows where after I told Fishlegs to fetch you," she muttered. Hiccup turned to face her, slightly shocked. "You told him to get me?" he asked. Astrid nodded. Zephyr watched quietly, slowly shifting away from the couple. The chieftess stared longingly into her husband's eyes. She shook her head. "Hiccup, I don't think we're going to survive another winter if you keep letting in refugees. I know you only want what's best for them, but think about the village -- _our_ village,"

Hiccup rubbed his temples in frustration. "The food will last, I'm sure of it. If we rationed our supplies a bit more--"

"It won't last, Hiccup," she paused. Astrid leaned closer to Hiccup, locking him in a tight embrace. "You're a good man, Hiccup, but you're incredibly stubborn. And that's a good thing, especially if you're running a tribe -- but you also need to be flexible,"

Hiccup smiled bitterly. "Stubborn? That's ironic coming from you,"

Astrid shrugged and kissed Hiccup on the cheek, stubs of his beard caressing against her own. "I learned from the best," she said playfully. "But on flexibility," she continued. "Even though you don't like the idea, you have to make some compromises. An extra pair of hands is always good. I'm sure Gobber loves the new influx of apprentices to his forge. But have too many and you suddenly have another bowl of problems that'll come to bite you in the ass if you don't fix it quickly,"

"Language," he pointed at Zephyr, who was inspecting the kitchen cupboards, noting the tiny spots of rust that were beginning to form on the handles. Why she was there out of all the places in the house, she was not entirely sure, but it is a better spot than being right next to her parents when they start talking about the tribe. 

"Right. But you get the idea,"

He looked into the fire, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Astrid leaned against his chair whilst looking at Hiccup. They stayed that way for a few moments; Zephyr even thought that the conversation was over and slowly waddled towards her parents; but amidst the silence that hung in the air, Hiccup's voice rang across the room. "Those lives... Gods, what did we do to deserve this fate," he stared down at his feet. He grimaced.

Astrid shrugged. "You know, Odinson is known for bestowing challenges," she pointed out.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe," she ran her fingers into his hair, twirling his unkempt locks. "He's giving you a challenge,"

Hiccup laughed. "Please. I can understand Stravh -- I mean, we are his creation -- but Odinson? Master of Yggdrasil and King of Valkareim? I'm sure he'd rather die than give a challenge to me,"

"Who knows? The Gods do work in mysterious ways,"

"Not mysterious enough for me to know that I won't be Odinson's chosen," he said softly. "These people... they have nowhere else to go, Astrid. Sure, they can go to to Vinland, but then they would have to deal with some rather unfriendly folk,"

"How about the Bog Burglars?" Astrid interjected.

He chuckled. "Camicazi's friendly, but I don't think the refugees would take it kindly if they find out that they've been robbed," he said truthfully.

"Oh! I know. The Refugee tribe," she continued to play with Hiccup's hair; she even managed to braid a few strands.

He glanced at Astrid and gave her a deadpan look. "Really? The Refugee tribe?"

Astrid rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah,"

"I heard their leader is less than savory... Nikora Stormheart, I think?"

"You got that right,"

Hiccup smiled proudly. "See, I know my politics,"

She threw her arms, feigning an exasperated look. "I never doubted you on that!" the two laughed softly so as to not wake Nuffink.

Hiccup nodded. "I'll think about it,"

"Please do. I know I've said this before, but the tribe won't last the next winter if we keep accepting new refugees," she reminded.

"I know," he sighed sadly. "I just want to help everyone," silence fell upon the room. Astrid patted him on the back tenderly.

"Pa!" Zephyr shouted across the room. The couple instantly glanced over to Zephyr and told her to shush. Astrid pointed at the ceiling and gestured something that reminded the child of a sleeping position. She opened her mouth and nodded. Slowly, she walked towards the pair. She smiled innocently. "Pa," she started. "Why don't you go help the people on the mainland?"

He raised his eyebrows. "In the south?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Ya. They're coming from the south, then you can go and fix the problem there," she said. Honestly, she wondered if her father -- as smart as he may be -- had thought about that idea. He rubbed his beard and stared at the fire in deep contemplation. 

"That... could actually work," he looked at Astrid for approval. She said nothing. "Astrid, think about it. This can be our only chance to help everyone. If we can stop the problem at the source, then everything will go back to normal!" he whispered loudly.

"As normal as it could be," she muttered under her breath.

Hiccup ignored her remark. He stood up and held her arms in excitement. "Astrid, Zephyr. I promise you that I will make things right, starting by next week,"

She stared worryingly at Hiccup. "Are you sure that's a good idea? This is different than Drago and Grimmel. In case you've forgotten, the dragons aren't with us anymore. Toothless isn't with us. And you're going to go off and fight against Melakei's spawns -- who, I'm sure, will be a whole different brand of evil than the two pricks we fought together."

Hiccup grimaced. He clutched her arms tighter. However, moments later, a smile crept upon her face -- one of acceptance. "It's a bad idea. A terrifyingly stupid idea. It might actually be the dumbest plan I've made so far; but if we want things to go back to the way they were, then I have to do this,"

She shook her head in disapproval. She smiled sadly before moving in closer. She hugged Hiccup tightly. "Just as stubborn as your father..." she whispered.

He kissed her forehead softly. "Thanks. I learned from the best," he said jokingly.

"I can't convince you out of this can I?"

"Why ask something when you already know the answer," he grinned. The two lovers shared a laugh. 

Zephyr tugged the bottom of her father's shirt. He looked down and smiled. Zephyr, on the other hand, gave him a worried look. She clung onto his leg, hugging it tightly. "Are you going to leave us?"

Hiccup picked her up from the ground. He booped her nose and she giggled adorably. Slowly, Astrid's arms made its way around Zephyr. Before she knew it, they were hugging tightly, which Zephyr appreciated as the biting frost of the blizzard outside was starting to bother her again. The chieftain parted from their embrace, rubbing his forehead against Zephyr's. "I will be back, sweetie. You can count my word on that," he caressed her cheeks with his fingertips. She pressed her face against his hands, tears swelling in her eyes. "And once this is all done, I'll bring you, Nuffink, and your mum to the south. Does that sound good?"

Zephyr nodded. She rubbed her face with her arms, wiping away any tears that might have dropped onto her cheeks.

Astrid ran her hands across Zephyr's hair, sighing. "I wish this moment can last forever," she confessed.

"Me too,"

"You're going to tell them tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Hiccup rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I should start figuring out what I'm going to say,"

"I can stay up with you. Would you like that?"

Hiccup nodded as he glanced at Zephyr, whose eyes were beginning to flutter. "We should put her to bed first though," as he uttered those words, Zephyr jolted upwards, her eyes wide opened, though one could tell that she was exhausted judging by the circles below her eyes. Her body was straight, but her mind felt as limp as jelly. She cursed herself for playing with the cursed kitchen cupboards.

"Alright. I'll brew us some yaknog,"

Zephyr's heart sank and she was tempted to scream in defiance, but her mind would not let it. She could hardly make a cohesive sentence, muttering unknown words that made little to no sense. Her father chuckled in a way that only a man of his size could. He climbed through the stairs, his legs moving defiantly in spite of the great weight he was carrying in his arms. The house was ghost-quiet, safe from the creaks that emanated from the stairs. Outside, the blizzard raged on, covering the world in a thick blanket of snow.

Hiccup grabbed the knob of the door and gently turned the brass knob. A torch hung by the side of the door, casting the room in an orange hue. Nuffink snored louder than the ring of steel clashing against one another in Gobber's forge and Zephyr wondered how a baby that small could make such a noise. The two shared a confused look and shrugged. He walked over to the other end of the room towards her bed. Her corner was messy -- parchments lay scattered across the blanket, bearing Zephyr's (failed) attempts at copying her father's sketches. In the corner of her eyes, she noticed that some of her toys were on the ground. She glared at Nuffink's sleeping form and cursed with all of the words she could think of. The chieftain laid her onto the bed, brushing aside the crumbled pieces of paper off onto the floor. Zephyr pulled the blanket until it touched the tip of her chin. For a moment, the two sat there in silence. She noticed that her father's mouth were opened, as if he was going to speak, but no words left his mouth. He frowned and stared longingly at the torch as he caressed his beard. Suddenly, he perked up from his position and leaned in closer towards Zephyr. He gave her a peck on her forehead. "Zephyr..." he trailed off. His face held no emotion, but the way he uttered her name made her incredibly worried.

She gulped.

"In case I don't come back, I need you to help your mother in... anything she needs help in. Politics mainly, but you don't need to worry about that for now. You're still young and I'd rather not have you get involved in that mess. But I digress," he chuckled darkly. "Still, you get the idea. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart," his forehead touched against hers and the world stood still for just a moment. "You are destined for great things, Zephyr. And if the Gods don't think so, then screw them," he slapped himself as he realised what he just did. Zephyr didn't care though; she already knew what the word meant from uncle Gobber. He was incredibly colourful with his words. "You make your own destiny, sweetie. One day, you will become the chieftess. That isn't something that should be thrown away lightly. The entire tribe will count on you, so if you mess up in something, you might endanger the whole tribe," he sighed. Zephyr looked down at her feet, obscured by the thick, wool blanket. 

"I'm not a mess up, am I?" she mumbled, barely audible amidst the cracks of the fire from the torch across the room; but her father, keen as he was, picked it up.

"We all mess up sometimes. I don't exactly have a clear track record either,"

Zephyr tilted her head. "Really?"

He laughed. "Sure thing. Before I met Toothless, I was the tribe's troublemaker. They'd call me Hiccup the Useless because of how useless I was whenever the dragons raided our tribe. It was tough and I didn't really have a way to handle my problems. Your grandfather was a great man, but he can be a bit questionable when it comes to being a father," he sighed, and a silence hung over them. He grimaced. "He didn't even want to look at me in the face sometimes. Like I was a big joke of a viking," his voice was laced with melancholy. Zephyr didn't understand how her father felt in those situations, but when she heard him mumbled the last sentence, she moved in for a tight embrace. He raised his head and gave Zephyr a fatherly smile. "We got over that pretty quickly after I took down a literal demon-dragon, but it's hard to forget when your own father treated you like you were nothing but a mess," he reached out for her hands. "You're going to a mess, no matter what happens. After all, we're vikings--"

"It's an occupational hazard," she interjected.

Hiccup beamed proudly and ruffled her hair until it was nothing but an incoherent mess. "You're absolutely right! It's how you act towards the mess that really counts,"

Zephyr rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I think I understand...?"

"It's okay if you don't. But I do want you to remember this: Make now the most precious time. You only have one life here on Midgard. After that, you're off to the Twilight Seas," he rose from the bed. He leaned in close to Zephyr and gave her a quick peck on her forehead. "I love you, Zephyr. Sweet dreams,"

Zephyr yawned loudly. "I love you too, papa," she turned over to face the wall. A few moments later, she heard the loud creek of the door, followed by a soft _thump_. Now, she was truly alone. Zephyr's mouth stooped as she remembered the exchange her father with her mum. And then with her. She fought back the urge to cry. It was the Gods' fault that her father has to leave her behind. It was the Gods' fault that their beloved dragons were taken away to the depths of the Earth. If the Gods were merciful, then they would have let the sun set by now; they would have stopped the storm that raged on beyond the comfort of her home. Or, perhaps, the Gods themselves are nothing but myth. She shook away those thoughts. Of course the Gods are real -- if they weren't, then her father would not have become the man he is today. Yes, the Gods were real, but they were not merciful. They were uncaring. Just like her grandfather.

That night, she cried herself to sleep and prayed to the spirits above that her father is safe from the decrepit claws of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a beast to write, mostly because i was figuring out what i want to do with the characters for the rest of the story. either way, this has been a blast to write, but i do think that there are plenty of errors in this chapter, so id appreciate any forms of criticisms :)) also, if you wish to beta-read then ill greet u with open arms.


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